


interlude in b minor

by heroedrey



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (bc bucky has Problems Communicating), Bottom Steve Rogers, Coming Untouched, M/M, Morse Code, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Praise Kink, Sam's just chilling out idk which he is he's going with the flow, Supersoldier Stamina, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Bucky Barnes, excessive use of stevie as a nickname, takes place at some ambiguous time before infinity war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 03:51:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12903402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heroedrey/pseuds/heroedrey
Summary: sam wilson never expected to have to explain polyamory to bucky barnes, and he certainly doesn't think explaining it will mean  he finds out that bucky has already fucked everyone he wants to, and that he'll end up in bed with two world war two legends.





	interlude in b minor

**Author's Note:**

> i apparently don't know how to edit things, because i didn't really proofread this so you're getting pure writing
> 
> it shifts from bucky's pov to sam's pov like halfway through, and i didn't realize it until i finished writing it, so that's just how it's going to be. 
> 
> & a fun fact: one of my favorite lines i've ever written is in this. comment what u think it is.

Almost immediately, Bucky regrets his decision to sit down at the island, on one of the tall stools that have little rungs he can rest his feet on (no, that’s not why he regrets it, he likes those rungs, they’re comfortable). He regrets it because once he sits down, the next step is to talk, and to ask Sam the questions dancing on his tongue.

He doesn’t say anything at first, and he knows that Sam knows he’s there; he made sure to not move as quiet as he does sometimes, scraping the chair legs against the floor a bit, and letting his left hand tap a little against the counter.

“You want anything? Coffee, maybe?” Sam offers, unflinchingly casual, and Bucky pushes his hair back from his face, freshly cut off, but ragged at the ends because he did it himself. He can’t afford to let anyone near his face. Or his neck.

“No, I’m good.” He replies, and Sam continues fixing his own cup of coffee. Bucky nearly gets up five times and walks away before Sam finally turns around and he remembers **_why_ ** he’s here, why he wants to say what he’s thinking, worried about. Sam leans against the counter on the opposite side as Bucky, hands loosely resting around the coffee mug. Bucky’s head is tilted down, gaze looking at the counter in front of him.

Finally, he looks up, “You know things about --- modern times.” It’s half a fact, half a statement, and he wishes he could just say the burning words in his mind, but the connection between his mind and his mouth isn’t as good as it used to be.

“Yeah, I’d say I know a bit. I wasn’t born three hundred years ago, like you and Cap.” Sam takes a sip of his coffee after he comments, and Bucky can’t help the faint eyebrow raise. He appreciates Sam’s ability to kind of joke even if Bucky’s tone is serious and halted.

“What if -- I like someone, but I also like another person in the same way?”

“We going to talk about crushes? Like a middle school sleepover?” Bucky frowns a little,

“If you don’t want to, I don’t need to talk about it.” He shifts a little, ready to leave if Sam doesn’t want to deal with his weird emotions.

“No, no. Stay, man. I’m in touch with my emotions.” Bucky pauses, then moves back to face Sam. “Say again what’s up?” Sam asks. Bucky feels kind of dumb now, because what if he doesn’t actually feel what he thought he felt, but he feels comfortable, he likes talking to Sam.

“I like someone --- but I also think I like someone else in the same way.” It’s not a question this time; he’s been thinking about this for weeks upon weeks. “It’s, I mean, it can’t be possible, you can only really love one person at a time, right? Like --” He’s almost rambling, and Sam’s got a little surprised smile on his face; Bucky never rambles anymore. Too often it’s short bursts of quick information. And when he gets confused? He clams up.

“Well, I’m going to just hazard a guess, and say the first person you’re referring to is Steve?” Bucky nods, and Sam takes another sip of his coffee. Bucky’s pretty sure that’s real, his attraction to Steve, he’ll call it, because that’s something that has tangibility - they’ve kissed, Steve has held his hand and that was real nice.

But his attraction to **_Sam._ ** That’s a different story.

“Well, everyone’s got a crush on Steve, so that’s not surprising.” Sam teases a little and a small smile grows on Bucky’s face.

“Can I --?” He feels like he has to ask permission to ask a question, but Sam doesn’t blink an eye, just nods, and Bucky continues, “It’s confusing.” He pauses, tries to get sentences strung together in his head, say outloud what he thought, “Me and Steve kissed, I have -- I supposed it’s something like tangibility with him.” He stops again and Sam makes like he’s going to talk, but Bucky just holds up a finger, and Sam doesn’t say anything, just lets him put together words. “And that’s important.” He says, “Because of all --” He vaguely gestures at his left arm, and all the things that come along with that. “To have something I can pinpoint and say that _yes_ , this is a real thing.”

“That makes sense.” Sam just says, and Bucky lifts his gaze at him, and he’s just drinking his coffee.

“And with --” He doesn’t say Sam’s name, this isn’t the time to confess messy feelings, he needs facts first, “I can’t like someone else, ‘cause that’s not how things work. And with -- the other person, how --” And here comes the jumble that shows up too often whenever he tries to say how he’s feeling, what he wants.

“If I --” He’s claming up again, he can feel it coming on, and so when Sam finally speaks, it’s welcome, now. “There’s this thing called polyamory.” Bucky gets himself to look up over at Sam, and Sam’s got his serious face on. “It’s -- I haven’t read too much about it ‘cause it wasn’t relevant when I was reading about sexualities and stuff, but it’s basically where you are in a relationship with not just one other person, there’s, I’d say, normally three people in a relationship together. Like a real love triangle. Everyone loves each other.”

“That’s real? You aren’t making that up to mess with me?” Bucky squints a little at Sam, and he genuinely seems serious.

“I’d never mess with you on this stuff, it’s serious.” Sam promises, and Bucky nods.

“How do you know if that’s a thing?” He realizes it’s not a full sentence, doesn’t have everything he wants to say, but Sam seems to understand.

“Well, you oughta talk to Steve about this, too.” Sam starts, and Bucky realizes he’s right, he shouldn’t just go around trying to get with Sam without telling Steve first. That’s not right.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t do this, I should say something to him first.” Bucky’s muttering, and Sam just speaks again,

“I ain’t done. You can say something to him later. He’s not even here, don’t know where he went.” Sam moves, making to look like he’s scanning the room for Steve. “But, mind me asking who this other person is that’s got you all inquiring?” Bucky looks at him for a long time and barely realizes his fingers have stopped tapping without rhythm and are just tapping out Y-O-U in morse code, metal fingers clicking against the hard counter.

Sam knows morse code. He forgot. He forgets a lot of things, so it’s not surprising.

“Me?” Sam says after Bucky gets himself back into his head. He probably said it a few times, other words intermingled, but Bucky was gone for a minute there.

“Sorry.” Bucky just says, and stills his fingers.

“What for?” Sam asks and Bucky frowns.

“All of this, I guess. Shouldn’t ---”

“No, it’s fine.” Sam says, and takes time, leaving the room quiet but not uncomfortable, and he figures out how he wants to phrase what he’s going to say. Bucky glances up once, but his eyes are trained on his hand to make sure it doesn’t start tapping of it’s own accord again.

“You still with me?” Bucky flicks his gaze up, nods, then back down. “‘Kay. You know, you’re lucky with Steve.” Bucky tilts his head a little, confused. “Even with everything that happened, he’s so much more comfortable with you than I’ve ever seen him with anyone.” He takes in a breath, “Even me, I mean, I could never replace you, and that’s why, as soon as all that stuff in D.C. went down -- after that --.” He stops. He’s gotten roundabout to nowhere.

“I don’t understand.” Bucky’s gotten good at saying when he doesn’t understand, when he’s confused, when things aren’t clear.

“Yeah, I know, sorry. Give me a --” Sam takes a gulp of his coffee, and tries again. “I don’t want to step on Cap’s toes. I guess, it seemed like some sort of fantasy come true -- everyone who was ever attracted to guys had some sort of fantasy about Cap, I mean, c’mon.” Bucky huffs a little laugh under his breath.

“I knew him first.” And Sam mirrors his laugh.

“You goin’ be like that?” Bucky raises his head a little, and Sam is privy to a tiny eyebrow raise. “What I’m trying to say is, I thought we had something going on, me and good ol’ Captain America, but the second -- the absolute **_second_ ** his little patriotic brain heard your name, he was switched onto a completely different time, a completely different persona that had nothing to do with me. And we looked for you for two years. We took breaks, obviously, he was in Sokovia, had Avengers things, and sometimes it seemed like we were heading toward something.” Sam rolls his eyes a little. “For two years. Guess it was my fault for holding onto hope. Should’ve hopped on the Black Widow train when there were still tickets.”

“Любимая.” Bucky suddenly murmurs in Russian, and he’s not sure who’s more surprised.

“What’s that?” Sam asks. It takes Bucky a minute to translate it. He’s not used to translating. He just knows the words.

“I -- think it’s something like _sweetheart_.”

“Why are you saying that?”

“Natalia. Black Widow.” He points briefly at his head. “I remember her.”

“Don’t tell me the two of you fucked, too.” There’s a bigger smirk on Bucky’s face now, and Sam hangs his head in mock defeat. “Can’t believe it. I got beat by an ice cube. An ice cube with a metal arm and amnesia to beat.”

Bucky rests an elbow on the counter, rests an elbow on that hand. “This polyamory thing you said.” He starts, and Sam’s back to being serious.

“Yeah?” And Bucky doesn’t feel spacey or anything right now. It’s nice.

“If I -- talk to Steve, do you want to talk about it too?” He still feels a little awkward. It’s like a switch turned something on in his brain, but not all the wires are connected right, so he’s still stumbling through, trying to understand.

Sam thinks for a minute -- the last thing he’s going to do is end up being the third wheel, but the way Bucky is looking at him, more open than he’s ever seen him, makes up his mind for him.

“Sure, yeah. We can all talk about it. See if it’s something we want.” Bucky brightens a little, not too much, but just a little.

“Yeah.” His voice is airy.

  
  
  
  


It’s later that week, their designated movie night, and the three of them are plastered together, leaving a suspicious amount of room on Sam’s right side, and Steve has half of his body shoved against the arm of the chair, but Bucky’s the lucky one, stuck smack in between them. And it’s only half an hour into the movie before it lulls Bucky to sleep, his head slipping to the side to fall onto Sam’s shoulder.

It causes Sam to start for a second, and glance over at Steve, but his face is soft in the harsh light from the TV.  Neither of them go to move Bucky at all, to make it just a little more comfortable, because there’s the unspoken rule not to touch him too much if he’s not awake. (Or he can’t consent. That’s not the problem here; the winter soldier, they both separately hope, is far away.)

Sam’s looking back at the TV, spacing out on the movie, and somehow they’re both in sync, and turn toward each other at the same time, and blurt out nonsense that blends together and means nothing.

“Sorry, you go first.” Steve says after an awkward minute of trying to not speak at the same time.

“No, it’s just, I was wondering if Bucky mentioned what we talked about, like -- about --” Steve looks at him for a minute, his face halfway to the guarded Captain America face the public knows so well.

“He mentioned somethin’ about how you didn’t like how he’d already fucked everyone you wanted to.” If Sam had been drinking _anything_ he would’ve spit it out and probably woken up Bucky. Steve’s voice is completely level, and the back of it just barely hints on humor. _This_ is why Sam’s been waiting for some sort of sign from Steve. For Christ’s sake.

“Yeah, okay, true. But that wasn’t the whole conversation.” Sam wants Steve to say the words, to make sure he’s not doing anything to push forward a conversation he doesn’t know how comfortable Bucky is having.

“He said you told him about something --” Steve pauses to pull up the word, “poly--polyamory was it?” He stumbles for a second, and looks at Sam for confirmation.

“Yeah, that was it.” And Steve nods. They both sit there, the sound of the movie playing but neither of them is watching it.

“Said it was where more than two people are in a relationship. You called it an ‘actual love triangle’.” Sam nods along, “So it’s not like those -- Hunger Games books where it’s like choosing, this way it’s all talked out and agreed upon by all parties, right?” Sam can pinpoint where Bucky’s words stop, and Steve’s own conclusions begin.

“Yeah, basically, I don’t know a lot about it ‘cause, y’know, it never came up too much for me when I was researching -- stuff. But. Yeah, I think so.” Steve’s still watching him, flashes of light from the movie changing the shadows on his face. He can’t quite see exactly what he’s thinking, as a result.

Sam takes a deep breath, Bucky’s head re-settling against his shoulder, and he hopes they’re not going to wake up; he might not sleep in the same room, or even _here_ sometimes, but he knows Bucky doesn’t get the sleep he needs. They both know that. They _all_ know that.

(Which is why, when Bucky feels safe, and he _can_ fall asleep, he _will_. And he feels safe, tucked between Sam and Steve.)

“Would you -- do you --” Sam grins a little, every semblance of _Captain America_ is gone; this is pure, unadulterated **Steve Rogers** . “Do you want that, with us?” Steve offers, and Sam has to pause. (he should pause, he shouldn’t just jump right in, heart on his sleeve and say _yes, yes, of course._ Oh, what the hell, he isn’t getting any younger.)

“Yes, of course.” The words stream out of his mouth and he can see Steve’s face light up under harsh TV light.

“Yes?”

“Man, who _wouldn’t_ want to be in a relationship with _two_ of America’s best known heroes? Just know, if we do this, you both’re coming home for Christmas with me. Ma’ll never believe me.”

“You know, I haven’t had a real Christmas in years, and I’m pretty sure it’s been longer for Buck.”

“Oh, why do you have to make _everything_ sad. Just ‘cause you were a human ice cube, don’t mean you get to pull that on me.” Sam laughs softly, and Steve is leaning closer, front pressing against Bucky’s side, and they’re all even closer. Steve’s hand comes up, resting on Sam’s cheek.

“You really want us?” It’s quiet, vulnerable, and Sam is struck still with the _trueness_ of Steve in this moment. No one else gets to see it, ‘cept for Barnes.

“Yeah, yes. Of course.” He says after he’s able to form words again. “If you guys want that, I’m all for it.” Bucky still doesn’t wake up, just shifts a little in his sleep, and curls a little more against Sam. Steve’s thumb brushes a little over Sam’s cheek before it pulls away.

“Do you even want to watch this movie?” Steve asks, forging walls again, and Sam mourns at the loss of his trueness. “We missed all of the setup.” Sam chuckles,

“I can’t really get up now, I’ve got an amnesiac cat laying on half my body.” Steve lets a small chuckle out, and grins.

“That wasn’t the question.” He says.

“No, I don’t want to watch the movie.” Sam answers.

Steve reaches forward, whole body moving forward, to grab the remote and pauses the movie, shuts the TV off.

It’s completely quiet now, except the sounds of the street that echo up through the windows, the sound of their breathing, the slight whirring of Bucky’s arm as it shifts.

Steve’s leaning back, arm falling on the back of the couch, behind Bucky, reaching over to rest his fingers on Sam’s shoulder, right by Bucky’s head.

“The three of us make a good team, yeah?” Sam doesn’t know where Steve is going with this. Then, “The two of us make a -- made -- make?” Sam frowns, and he doesn’t know who Steve is referring to, “You and me, Sam.” Steve clarifies, and Sam shrugs, “You know, before all the HYDRA shit went down, you were something -- something outside all this --” He gestures vaguely at nothing, and they both know he means _outside Captain America_ , “And it was nice ‘cause you didn’t really get all starstruck ‘cause _Captain America.”_ He puts on a tone that Sam’s never heard come out of his mouth. It’s mocking and has a tinge of bitterness.

“Hey, you’re just a guy, same as me.” _You reminded me a bit of myself; just trying to keep going after losing someone._ “No use in idolizing you, ‘specially when I realized that you’re a smug little fucker.”

“You didn’t like me lappin’ you?” Steve’s got a teasing look on his face.

“One time, I get, but _over and over_ , that’s a dick move.” Steve shrugs.

“Got you to notice me, though.” Sam gapes at him for a second before regaining his voice.

“Swear to god, man.” He mutters, and doesn’t let Steve see the fond smile on his face.

“I really appreciated that.” Steve lets his fingers take a hold of the loose fabric of Sam’s shirt, “I still do. Half the time, I don’t think the public, or even -- everyone else can see the difference between me and Captain America.”

“I’m pretty sure I met some fusion of Cap and Steve Rogers, so I’m better at seein’ you.”

“I knew him before he was _Captain America_.” Comes a voice from Sam’s shoulder and they’re both looking down at Bucky who’s got a half smile half tucked into Sam’s shoulder.

“You’re a fucking sneak, Barnes.” Sam mutters, and Bucky’s body rumbles with laughter.  

“Just sayin’ the facts.” Bucky’s muffled voice breathe hot air against Sam’s shoulder. Steve’s hand is moving, unhooking from Sam’s shirt and lightly rests on Bucky’s head and Bucky hums, and Steve starts threading his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“You want him?” Steve murmurs to Bucky.  “Want him to be with us?” Bucky’s melting under Steve’s fingers and Sam’s never seen him this relaxed, but he still answers,

“I’m the one who brought it up to _you_ , should be askin’ yourself.” Bucky turns his head a little, lifts it off Sam’s shoulder and cocks an eyebrow at Steve.

“I want it, yeah.” Steve’s entire focus is on Bucky right now, and Sam feels like he’s watching something too intimate.

“Yeah, me too.” Bucky replies, and then he’s turning back to Sam, right hand coming up behind Sam’s head and he’s murmuring, “You up for kissin’ an American hero?” and this is a completely different, _confident_ Bucky that doesn’t shine through very often. With good reason. But Bucky’s voice is low and his face is soft from his nap, and _jesus_.

“You better fuckin’ believe it.” Sam replies, and Bucky’s pulling their lips together, and a completely different kind of kiss than Sam’s ever had; half of it is just 70 years of built up hesitation and Bucky trying to figure him out, and half of it is just -- _hot_. He doesn’t know if he can touch Bucky, and somehow he registers this and his metal hand touches cold against Sam’s hand, and he grins at Sam’s startled jerk, as he pulls back.

“It’s cold yeah, it’s a side effect. But ya can touch me.” He mutters, guiding Sam’s hand so it rests against the juncture of his jaw and his neck. As soon as Sam’s got his hand settled, he’s surging back in, kissing Sam with all the confidence he’s never seen in the man. He’s just getting used to Bucky’s almost frantic kissing when Bucky pulls back, and speaks low, rough. “You wanna kiss Stevie?” Sam’s lost all sense of restraint when he looks past Bucky and sees Steve’s face: wideblown eyes and fast, rapid breaths causing a quick rise and fall of his chest.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam decides he likes this Bucky -- and he’s surprised at the sudden turning on of this part of him. Bucky turns over his shoulder, causing Sam hand to fall away, and grins at Steve,

“This was a good idea, yeah.” And he drops his hand from Sam’s head, pulling Steve in and kissing him hard, and when he pulls back, Steve’s lips are wet and parted, and eyelids flutter open. “Y’wanna kiss him?” He murmurs onto Steve’s lips and slides a hand around Steve’s waist, pressing a little and Steve gets the message, standing and Bucky slides a little to the left, and Sam realises why he does it when Steve’s moving to straddle his lap and _yeah_ , this was a good fucking idea.

This is enough to get him off for the rest of his goddamn life. Steve Rogers straddling him? Oh, hell yeah.

“You like this?” Steve’s murmuring, and it’s something to see him like this, and it’s not even more than necking.

“You gonna fuckin’ kiss me, or are we going to talk?” Sam bites out and Steve grins before he ducks down, kissing Sam hard against the back of the couch, pushing him back and Sam’s hands barely get a chance to grab at Steve’s waist.

(He doesn’t think it then, but he’s blown away that _Bucky’s_ the one that takes control, considering how little confidence he portrays normally. But, he supposes, this is a situation where he can’t bare to be not in control - he’s had so little control in his life, and Steve seems to melt at being bossed around. It fits; Bucky needs control somewhere and Steve needs to let go. Sam’s happy wherever he fits in.)

 

 

 

They don’t actually _fuck_ for a while, staying just at necking, but Sam’s pretty sure (okay, really sure ‘cause Steve sent him a text asking if it was okay), that the two of them had fucked at _least_ once before. He doesn’t mind; let them get used to each other again before hauling him in.

But when they _do_ , holy **shit**. Sam isn’t sure how he fucking survives it.

And he’s completely fine with Bucky taking control, because he, honestly, trusts him at this point and _for fuck’s sake_ , he’s hot when he’s confident. He can see why all the girls liked the soldier boys in the 40s. Bucky puts on his Sergeant voice and he’ll do whatever he says.

Steve’s even worse, though, so he sees an advantage at that.

“Babydoll, sweetie.” Bucky’s whispering onto Steve’s lips, knees bracketing his hips as Steve holds himself up, bare torso straining as Bucky just loosely holds onto one side of Steve’s head, kissing him hard. Sam’s still fully clothed, laying back against the pillows where Bucky pushed him, and told him _not to touch himself yet_.

It’s hard not to - he’s a man with needs, but Bucky’s eyes get dark when he’s like this, and every few seconds he glances over at Sam, even if he’s kissing Steve, and it pins Sam to the bed.

Steve’s hips jerk up at the petnames and Bucky chuckles deep in his chest.

“Know y’re hard for me, sweetheart, but let’s let Sammy over here get a chance.” Bucky glances over at Sam for confirmation that the nickname is okay, Sam pauses for a second ‘cause he’s never going to be able to talk to his Ma without thinking of _this_ ever again, then figures _what the hell_ , and nods.

Steve seems to assume that Bucky’s going to let him get a piece of Sam, moving once Bucky gets off of him, but Bucky’s got his left hand resting on Steve’s chest, and Steve glances down at it once, before wideblown eyes shoot back up, and his breathing is louder.

“A piece of me, hotshot.” Bucky teases, and Steve groans, dropping his head back, and Bucky lets metal fingers trace along Steve’s chest, up along his neck, his jaw, before disappearing and Steve huffs.

Bucky’s swinging a leg over Sam’s lap before he can even think and gives orders to Steve while staring Sam dead in the eyes.

“Take your pants off, Stevie.” And for an instant, Sam wonders if anyone the Winter Soldier killed got this upclose and personal, because, _fucking hell_ , he’s intense. There’s rustling beside them as Steve is quick to obey, and Bucky’s leaning down and kissing him messily, right hand shoving up under Sam’s shirt, causing him to arc up into the touch. “Y’both are so greedy.” Bucky mutters against Sam’s lips, and the vibrations shoot right down Sam’s body.

There’s a faint moan from beside them, and Bucky’s head is turning away, toward Steve and a harsh noise is in his throat, causing what can only be considered a _whimper_ from Steve. Sam gets his head turned, and Steve’s moving his fist away his dick, grabbing tight at the sheets beside him. He takes a good, long look at Steve’s body, all spread out, head thrown back, back arced a bit and he has to groan a little; Bucky hears it, grins, and his thighs flex a little as he’s able to grind down against Sam’s hardening dick, and that causes Sam to grab at any part of Bucky he can reach, to keep that friction there.

“Look at him.” Bucky says, voice low. “Ain’t he pretty? All nice and ready for us. Barely had to touch him and he’s already beggin’ for it.” Steve’s groaning because he can hear Bucky’s words, too, and his head rolls toward them, face flushed and lips parted. “So sweet, ain’t he?” Sam can do little more than nod, make a sound in his throat.

“If you don’t fuckin’ --” Steve’s voice is airy, but still carries the weight of his and Bucky’s relationship, but Bucky just laughs, coming in close to Sam, to where he can’t even focus on anything of Bucky’s face.

“He looks _so good_ ridin’ me, like a fuckin’ golden god gettin’ debauched by us mortals.” Sam’s going to lose his _fucking_ mind if Bucky keeps talking like this. “Looks so pretty, his hair plastered to his forehead, lips pink and sweet, and all those pretty little sounds drippin’ from his lips.” Steve’s whining, he can hear every word that Bucky’s saying, and Bucky knows it. He pulls back a little from Sam, and he’s able to focus on his face again. “Wanna see ‘im like that?” Bucky’s voice is only a little slipping into some semblance of an accent; the pure, crisp distinct lack of an accent he normally has disappearing as he tries to keep it together, but Sam can feel his dick against his own, and it’s not disinterested.

“Yeah, please.” Sam’s asking and Bucky smirks, pressing forward and kissing Sam deep and short, before his weight is gone from Sam’s lap and he’s kneeling, sitting back on his heels between the two of them.

“Stevie, sweetie...” Bucky’s murmuring, turning toward Steve, who’s only got eyes for Bucky right now, reaching his closest arm to grab a hold of Bucky’s thigh, fingers digging through Bucky’s jeans. “Wanna show Sam how good you can be for me?” His composure shows nothing of Steve’s fingers tight on his thigh. Steve is only able to nod, gasp out,

“Buck, please.” In a breathy, barely there voice which makes the tightness of Sam’s pants borderline painful. Sam doesn’t see a sign, but Bucky must do something so subtle that only Steve can understand it because suddenly Steve is moving, muscles rippling and pushing Bucky onto his back, allowing only a second for Bucky to straighten his legs out, and Bucky’s laughing, high and joyful.

Sam’s never heard him like that before.

“Sam -- baby --” He says, and his _name_ in that clear voice is a transcendent experience. “You wanna get your clothes off yourself? Or y’want Captain America to do it for ya?” Steve already shoving Bucky’s shirt up around his underarms, exposing long expanses of muscle and skin above the waistband of his jeans and boxers. Steve’s lips are pressing hot kisses against ever part of Bucky’s skin and Sam doesn’t know how he keeps it together.

Bucky’s staring at him, waiting for an answer and stopping only once to flutter his eyes closed as Steve runs over a sensitive spot.

“Want Steve, yeah.” Sam’s able to choke out as Steve gently lifts Bucky’s upper body, and Bucky’s compliant in this one instant to help get his shirt up over his head. And when Bucky’s shirt is flung off somewhere else and his back is back on the bed, Steve is pressing loving (it’s the only word for the way he practically _worships_ ) kisses against the spiderweb of scars coming out from Bucky’s left shoulder. Bucky’s not looking at Sam right now, just watching Steve, and Steve brings his head up, and they’re kissing, slow, gentle, and with _history_ behind it.

“Y’re okay?” Steve’s murmuring light, and Bucky nods harshly, crashing their lips together again and sliding his right hand down the muscles of Steve’s back and squeezes his ass, which causes Steve to yelp a little, and Bucky’s back, a wicked grin on his face.

“Go get Sam outta those clothes.” Bucky says, and then Steve’s turning on him, grinning like him and Bucky are somehow in cahoots without him knowing about it. Steve’s over his lap before he can say anything, kissing him and grinding his bare skin against the roughness of Sam’s jean-covered groin, and the friction is so intense that his hand reaches behind to grab at the headboard, moving their bodies even closer. A deep moan drifts from his throat and Sam’s hips jerk up at it, Steve’s eyes fly open, deep, dark blue.

“These’re my nice jeans, Steve, if y’ruin them, you’re cleaning them by hand.” He’s able to say before Steve mirrors Bucky’s conspiratorial grin and grinds down again. Sam’s hands are warm against his burning skin, and he holds onto Steve’s waist with a deathgrip.

“Thought I said get him _outta_ them, not dryhump ‘im.” Bucky says, and Steve grins at Sam, before pushing at the hem of his shirt, and Sam lets Steve pull it over his head, raising his arms for a second, and then Steve’s kissing down his chest, fingers running down his sides, and he can’t believe he’s _here_ , with Captain _fucking_ America about to get fucked right in front of his eyes.

His fingers quickly unbutton Sam’s jeans, and Sam helps by bending his knees a little, bracing his feet, lifting his hips, and Steve’s able to slide his jeans and his underwear all at once, and once it’s off Sam’s legs, he tosses the bundle of clothes off somewhere and is kneeling between Sam’s legs, bent over and sucking bruises into Sam’s inner thighs; they’ll stay on him -- the other two? Probably not. It’s so sensitive that his leg knocks against Steve in an unconscious effort to stop it. Steve notices, and he decides his mouth is put to better use kissing Sam.

“Y’re good, y’still want this?” He confirms, breathing the words onto Sam’s lips. He’s the one that confirms it, some aspect of himself he can never turn off.

“Yes, Steve, yes.” Sam promises, and Steve relaxes again, kissing him had and pressing their bare skin together, causing Sam to grab a hold of the back of Steve’s neck, pull him closer, jerk his hips up as their dicks slide against each other briefly.

Bucky’s there again, a hand coming to dance up and down Steve’s back, his weight causing the both of them to tilt a little to the side. At some point when Sam was distracted by Steve, Bucky got his pants off, and they’re both turning toward him, and Bucky smirks at Steve before pushing him back a little, so he’s sitting on Sam’s thighs, and he’s turning so he can kiss Sam, all messy and intense.

“You ready, Stevie?” Bucky’s saying, pulling away from Sam, and Steve’s moving quick, swinging off of Sam and he’s on his hands and knees, ass facing them, in a second.

“Shit, holy shit, Steve.” Sam can barely say anything, and Steve’s still able to chuckle at Sam, as Bucky’s slicking up his fingers, and Steve’s laughter stops dead in his throat as Bucky pushes into him, breathing immediately becoming ragged and uneven, mouth falling open.

“Shh, shh, you’re good, you’re good.” Bucky’s murmuring, his left hand gentle on the outside of Steve’s thigh, and it must be cold but Steve isn’t even bothered. Bucky’s right hand is moving, one finger in and out. “Sweetie, y’want more?” A broken breath leaks from Steve’s lips, but he’s able to say,

“Please.” And Bucky smiles, and another finger pushes in, “ _Ahhh_.” Light and breathy from Steve’s lips. “Buck, please.”

“What’re you sayin’ please for? What do you want?” Bucky’s teasing him, and his hand is off of Steve’s thigh, reaching instead for Sam, and points for him to lay down next to Steve, on his back, and Steve’s shuddering breaths are loud as he’s closer. He seems surprised as Sam lays next to him, but Bucky pauses and Steve’s moving so his arms bracket Sam’s head and Sam can see every movement in his face, every dilation of Steve’s pupil.

He drags Steve down to kiss him, right as Bucky moves his fingers again and Steve gasps and moans loud into his mouth.

“Did y’know, Sam, that he can go like -- how many’d we go last time?” He’s still twisting his fingers inside Steve, but expects an answer, and Steve pulls away from Sam’s lips,

“Five or six.” Gasps out the words, and is pushing back a little against Bucky’s hand, tilting his body a little, and he’s pressing his forehead hard against Sam’s shoulder.

“Yeah, made him cum something like six times last time.” Steve’s whimpering at the casualness of Bucky’s voice, contrasting his fingers inside of him, and curling to find his prostate again, and when he does, it only takes a few strokes for Steve to cum, untouched, keening high in the back of his throat, and it all splatters on the sheets below him, and part on Sam’s skin, and Steve’s trying to breathe, but Bucky’s not letting him, pushing another finger in, causing Steve’s breathing to stop, and start again, ragged and irregular, and Sam’s threading a hand through his damp hair. It stays pushed back, roots damp enough with pooling sweat.

Steve’s arms are shaking, but he’s not going to fall down against Sam’s body, doesn’t want to press his full weight against the other man.

“So good, so good.” Sam’s murmuring; he’s not sure what to say, but he wants to say something, contribute more than he is, and Steve’s staring up at him with beautiful, darkening eyes, and he guesses he said something right. His hand that’s not buried in Steve’s hair comes up, rubbing up and down Steve’s arm and Steve’s breathing quickens.

“Y’like that, sweetie? Like bein’ good for us?” Bucky’s leaning a little forward, bringing his left arm up to hold around Steve’s torso, and the metal is cold against Steve’s burning skin, and Steve can’t speak anymore. He’s just trying to keep breathing.

“Breathe, breathe.” Sam’s murmuring, and Steve’s hands are knotted in pools of fabric by Sam’s head.

“Y’re so ready for me, you want to ride me?” Bucky’s got his voice down low, deep in Steve’s ear, and Steve’s entire body shudders. “Mhmm...” Bucky pretends to think about it, and Steve pushes back hard against Bucky’s fingers, trying to get more pleasure. “I think I wanna suck off sweet Sam down there, he’s been waiting _real_ patient for somethin’ on his cock.” Sam loses all the breath that’s in his lungs.

“Please, yeah, do that.” He says, and Bucky grins at him.

“See? He _really_ wants it.” Bucky’s murmuring, and Steve’s got his head resting on Sam’s shoulder again.

“Want -- want -” Steve’s trying to breathe out some semblance of words.

“Want what, babydoll?” Bucky’s murmuring, his hand sliding out of Steve, slick threading from Steve to Bucky’s fingers, and Steve’s gasping at the lack.

“Sam to feel good.” He’s gasping out, his breathing unsteady and Sam’s pretty sure if he puts his hand around Steve’s dick for more than a few seconds he’s going to cum again.

“Me too, Stevie, he deserves that, ‘s done so much for us.” It’s almost a private conversation, but Sam’s chest lights on fire at Bucky’s words. He’s pretty sure he’s not breathing.

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve’s panting out, and Sam wonders how Bucky can even hear what he says. Sam moves his leg, the side of his leg coming up to tap against Bucky’s thigh,

“You gonna suck me off, or not, Mr. American Hero.” Bucky can just barely see Sam from under Steve, but his heart blooms because he’s _not_ a hero anymore, he’s just a toy soldier, a _gun_ used by bad people. But Sam says it like he means it. It spurs him on.

“You bet your ass I am, Sammy.” Bucky’s moving, kneeling over Sam and Steve’s moving a bit to the side, letting Bucky see Sam.

“I am _never_ going to be able to look my mother in the face after this.” Sam groans, but Bucky’s kissing his stomach, down, down, and he doesn’t want to think about his mother right now.

“Only got one thing.” Bucky’s voice is serious, and Sam’s mind is clear for this instant only.

“Can’t fuck m’face, can’t hold my hair when I do this, just -- don’t touch me when I do this, yeah?” He says, and he stares intensely at Sam,

“Of course, whatever you say.” He’s not even going to ask why, it’s none of his business.

“Let me do my thing.” He teases, and his mouth is on Sam and Bucky’s left hand is cold on his hip, keeping him firmly in place as if he already knows the routine.

“Oh, mother of --” Sam sputters, and Steve’s winding down a little bit, he’s able to almost breathe, and he’s got one hand tracing down Sam’s chest, “ _Ah_ , ah--” He’s breathing out, and Steve’s leaning over, slowly, lazily kissing Sam, and Sam can faintly think that this must be how Steve would kiss him in the soft summer sun.

It doesn’t take too long of Bucky’s mouth to bring him close, and he shoves Steve away to give a warning, breathing and gasping,

“Don’t know if I can cum more than once like you fools.” And he almost regrets it as Bucky pulls off with a pop and a smirk.

“That’s okay, Stevie can pick up the slack.” Bucky teases, and he’s bending back down, kissing Sam’s inner thighs before moving away, and he’s manhandling Steve onto his back, and Steve’s staring up at him with trusting eyes as Bucky pushes his thighs up against his chest. “Sam, get his --” And Sam’s holding one of Steve’s thighs against his chest, Bucky holds the other one and Steve’s grabbing desperately at the sheets behind his head.

Bucky’s pushing three fingers in all at once, causing Steve to arc up off the bed, a broken moan leaving his lips.

“Still nice an’ open for me.” Bucky mutters.

“Please -- Bucky --” Bucky just shushes him quietly, and Steve’s reduced to whimpering.

“Y’re gonna ride me, think you can do that?” Bucky’s asking, and Steve nods, eyes falling closed. His hair is plastered on his forehead again, and Bucky’s leaning forward, sliding his fingers out again, and he’s kissing gently against Steve’s chest, still pushing his legs up against his chest, and then lets the leg he’s holding slide down, and he’s taking a hold of Steve’s other leg from Sam, and leaning down, kissing Steve softly, and asking quietly, “You’re okay?” Steve nods again, and he’s flipping them over, straddling Bucky, who’s laughing again.

“Gonna make you cum.” Steve’s voice makes Bucky moan, and it’s deep and low, and some dirty version of the Captain America voice. It’s like he’s got a mission and he’s going to do everything he can to make it work out in his favor.

“That right, sweetheart?” Bucky’s cocking an eyebrow, but his voice isn’t cocky when Steve’s lowering himself, head falling back and chest heaving. “Kiss ‘im.” Bucky’s saying to Sam, and Sam’s up on his knees, pressing up against Steve’s thighs as they flex, pushing him down, and pulling his head back straight on, and kissing him as Steve moans into his mouth. “Like that, yeah.”

And Steve’s fully seated, and he’s got one hand flared on Bucky’s stomach and the other one is holding Sam close against his naked thigh, kissing him with all the messiness he has.

Bucky pushes his hips up, jarring Steve and causing him to slide against Sam’s lips, mouths crashing together and Steve might taste blood, but that’s okay. Steve’s moaning, his lips only touching the corner of Sam’s lips.

“Sam, Sam.” Bucky’s saying, drawing his attention. “C’mhere. Lay here.” Bucky’s positioning himself so Steve’s able to get as much stimulation as he can, and one hand taps right next to him, “So you can see how good he looks.” And Sam’s moving, laying down beside Bucky and his leg still presses against Steve’s thigh, and so he can feel every movement. Still feels a little weird with his dick up like this, but, whatever. He’s pressed up against Bucky’s side. “Look at him, look how pretty, he’s already half gone.” Bucky jerks his hips up again and Steve nearly cries out, lips falling open and his hips start moving of his own accord, hard and jerkily to hit his prostate over, and over again, and Bucky doesn’t bother him as he fists his dick, fucking himself and jerking off at the same time and it’s got to be a minute before he comes again, his fist white.

“That feel good?” Bucky’s groaning out, and Steve’s face is all pink, and he’s gasping for air, but Bucky’s not letting him breathe, just slams into him, even as Steve’s still riding the insanely sensitive aftershocks, and he leans forward, wanting to use Bucky to hold himself up. “No, babydoll, gotta hold yourself up, you’re strong, c’mon.” Steve’s whimpering low in his throat as he pushes himself up, thighs trembling. “Good, good.”

“Steve, yeah, baby.” Sam’s saying, and Steve’s flashing open endlessly dilated eyes, and he’s reaching over, fisting one hand on Sam’s dick, and giving it a few strokes, causing any semblance of words to be long gone from Sam’s throat. The his hand disappears again.

“Yeah, sweetheart, make Sam feel good.” Bucky’s saying, “Are you going to move?” And Steve slowly rocking his hips, thighs flexing in a way that’s enough for Sam’s entire body to go hot. “You feeling good?” Bucky’s turning toward Sam,

“I’d feel _better_ if you’d kiss me.” Sam says, and Bucky chuckles, grabbing at Sam’s neck with the cold metal of his left hand and it leaves Sam gasping a little, before he pulls him over himself, pulling Sam down to kiss him, and Steve’s voice is half of the sound in the room now,

“Fucking, I swear to _fucking god_ , Buck, I’m not just doin’ this for me, you better fucking pay attention t’me you utter pain in my ass.” Neither of them know where Steve’s voice comes from, and Steve’s just going at it, they both look, and every single muscle in Steve’s body is moving, rippling with the effort, and he’s trying to get Bucky off right now, ignoring his own pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, fuck.” Bucky had somehow blocked out what Steve was doing, but now it’s back in full force, and he’s breathing heavily, and pushing up, left arm holding himself up as he encircles Steve with the other, and he’s pushing up, hard and fast, into Steve, and Steve has his hands buried in Bucky’s hair, and they’re just gasping into each other’s space, and in just a few minutes Bucky’s cumming with a deep groan, some part of him stifling the sounds that he might otherwise make. One of Steve’s hands disappears between them and he’s half-sobbing as he cums again, and Bucky’s holding him up through it, and is whispering near-silent to calm him through it.

It’s probably one of the hottest things Sam has ever seen.

“Should we help Sam now?” Bucky’s raising his voice, knowing how to make it so Sam can hear the words. “Wanna do that?” Steve’s nodding, and his chest is still rapidly expanding, contracting. He’s pulling himself off of Bucky, every part of his body trembling. He rests back on his heels, and he’s still half-hard, and Sam can’t even _imagine_ how he must feel. For fuck’s sake, he’s already cum like three times and he’s showing no signs of stopping.

“One of you’s gotta suck me off, c’mon.” Sam’s prepared to almost beg for something at this point, and Bucky’s smirking, and Steve’s lunging forward, watching Sam with lazy, hooded eyelids, but his eyes are deep and intense, as he wraps a trembling hand around Sam’s dick, and Sam just lets his head fall backward, lets his hips arc into Steve’s touch and just wants to come, doesn’t give a shit if he can’t the rest of the night.

“Baby, nice, tha’s nice.” Sam’s murmuring, and then gasping because he’s got his eyes glued shut, and Steve’s sliding his mouth over him and he’s breathing out raggedly, and then there’s a hand on his face, a thumb brushing over his cheek, and Bucky’s murmuring nothings to him, and it’s different than how it is with Steve, cause they’re trying to make him just _feel good_ , while Bucky’s trying to wring everything out of Steve that he can.

“Don’t he do that good?” Bucky’s murmuring, kissing lightly along Sam’s neck, and lifting up just enough to breathe the words onto Sam’s skin. “Yeah, feels great -- _heavenly_.” And Sam pants out his agreement, hand coming down to hold onto the back of Steve’s head, and he doesn’t push down or anything, doesn’t jerk his hips up, just lets Steve do it.

“Steve, _c’mon_ \---” He’s desperate for it now, and he can feel the sweat all over his body, breathing ragged, more and more. “Please, please.”

“C’mon, Stevie, finish him off.” Bucky’s lifting his head enough to just tell Steve what to do, and that just about pushes him over, and it doesn’t take much more before he’s shooting out down Steve’s throat, and he doesn’t know how he _fucking does it_. But there’s some dripping out of the side of Steve’s lips when he sits back, pink lips fully ripe and wet, and Bucky’s moving, wiping it away with his thumb.

“Oh, _christ_ , Steve, thank you -- mother of --” Sam’s rambling, mind absolutely _fried_. Steve’s grinning wildly at him, and he knows that him and Bucky are in cahoots somehow, he just doesn’t know how. He’s pretty sure half of this is just a show for him, and god, that’s hot.

And Bucky’s got a hand between the two of them again, hand around Steve’s dick, and jerking him off fast and hard and Steve’s cumming, broken and gasping and gasping and falling against Bucky’s shoulder, and Bucky’s holding him up, and Sam’s finally able to sit up, see Steve trembling, his lips open and trying to drag in the air he desperately needs.

“What’re we up to, Cap?” Sam teases, and Steve’s eyes open, flash up to him, and answer, breathless,

“That’s four, I think.” And Bucky’s pressing a kiss against the side of Steve’s face.

“‘S four.” He murmurs, and Steve’s still trembling, “Can y’go one more time?” He asks quietly, and Sam can tell he’s willing to stop, now, if Steve says he can’t.

“Think --” Steve’s gasping for breath, still shaking from aftershocks he can’t control, “Think I can.”

“You fucking supersoldiers are going to kill me.” Sam groans out, “If y’don’t kill yourselves first by seein’ how many times you can come in one go.” Steve’s grinning wicked at him, despite the frazzled condition of his body.

“Helluva way t’go.” He breathes out, and Bucky laughs. “Want y’to fuck me, Sam.” Steve’s saying next, and Sam’s got to shake his head, sigh, and regret getting off.

“Don’t know if I can, not sure I can get it up like you.” Sam’s apologetic.

“Just -- fuckin’ -- finger me, don’t care what. Want _you_ .” Steve’s begging, and moving, pushing out of Steve’s arms, and coming to sit back on his heels in front of Sam, and _christ,_ the man doesn’t have any sort of refractory period, ‘cause he still half-hard.

“Can’t say no to that.” Sam agrees, and he’s pushing himself to his knees, and grabbing Steve’s face, kissing him hard and fast. “Lay back, let me make you feel good, so good.” Sam’s murmuring against Steve’s lips, and he’s slowly pushing Steve onto his back, motioning for Bucky to shove a pillow under Steve’s head. “Yeah? That good?” He’s murmuring, and Bucky’s pushing Steve’s hair back from where it’s plastered against his forehead, brushing his cheek softly with a flesh hand. Steve’s sighing, but his hips jerk up the second Sam gets near and he has to chuckle.

“Sweetheart, shh, shh.” Bucky’s murmuring to Steve, and Sam’s running his hands along Steve’s outer thighs, calming the tremors. Then his hands dance over the intensely sensitive skin of Steve’s inner thighs, and there’s desperate sounds falling from Steve’s lips.

“Yeah? That’s good?” Sam’s asking, and Steve’s gasping out _yes, yes_. Sam pushes at the back of one of Steve’s thighs, pushing it up over his shoulder, and Steve moans at the stretch, and Sam has to look around for the lube that’s gotten tossed somewhere, but Bucky’s tossing it to him, and he’s wetting his fingers, just to make sure he doesn’t hurt Steve at all.

Two fingers slide in at once, and Steve’s half-sobbing immediately, his whole body over sensitive from everything else, and Bucky’s got his hands all over Steve, rubbing his skin in calming motions that, really, only send Steve more toward the edge. Three fingers and Steve’s _begging_ , and Sam brushes against his prostate, and his eyes are glassy, and Bucky nods, saying, _let him come, do it_. And Sam brushes it again, rubs against it and Steve’s crying out, desperate and high, as he comes again, his entire body shaking and Sam’s pulling his fingers out.

“You’re okay, shh, you’re okay.” Bucky’s whispering, and Steve lets out a dry sob, and Sam’s letting his legs settle back down, and comes up opposite Bucky. He notices then that Bucky’s probably been hard for a while now, and his fingers thread through Steve’s hair, but he asks,

“Want me t’blow _you_ , Barnes?” Bucky looks up, surprised, as if he’d almost forgotten about his own pleasure. Again.

“What?” The confidence is dripping off of him.

“Y’re still hard, Buck.” Steve’s voice is barely loud enough to be heard. “Want me again?” Steve’s eyes are still half-unfocused as he looks over at Bucky, and Sam has to stop him, stop it.

“Steve, y’can’t, not anymore. Don’t care if you think you can. Rest.” Steve looks at him with distant eyes, and Sam brushes his hair back. “You did so good, so good.” Steve lets a distant smile fall onto his face. “You want me to, Bucky?” Sam repeats his question, but Bucky just looks, seems, feels distant too, like his dick being hard is something he doesn’t quite know how to deal with. He looks up at Sam and he’s confused and his eyes are a little narrowed. A little unfocused. He doesn’t answer.

Sam lets his hand brush over Steve’s hair again, and then swings over him, moving in front of Bucky. “Hey, hey.” He’s murmuring, and his hand hovers hesitantly beside Bucky’s head, before the other moves against it, and he’s threading through his hair. “Ain’t gotta say anything, just say, tell me if you want me to make y’feel good, want that, babe?” Bucky’s eyes are intense, even slightly unfocused, and they follow every _single_ movement. Finally, he nods, and Sam smiles. His hand slowly wraps around Bucky, the other gasping lightly, but that’s all the sound he makes.

His left hand comes to grip at Sam’s waist and he’s still got control of it, so it’s not painful, just keeps Bucky steady, and Sam’s nice and gentle, coaxing barely more than little gasps from Bucky before he’s leaning forward, pressing his forehead against Sam’s shoulder, and coming with a surprised little exhale, and his body trembles once, twice, and he’s done.

“That was good, yeah?” Sam murmurs, and Bucky nods. “Yeah, yeah.” He lets go of Bucky, and Bucky’s moving away from him, sitting cross legged on the bed a little aways from the both of the other men.

“Buck? You’re okay?” Steve’s voice is more even now, and he doesn’t sound like he’s having an asthma attack anymore.

“Yes.” Bucky just says, and Steve’s pushing himself up, sitting.

“You two are a _mess_. My god, why’d I think I could keep up with not one but _two_ supersoldiers.” Sam teases, and Steve chuckles a little.

“Think you did pretty well.” Steve’s coming down, breathing slowly evening out, body not trembling anymore.

“Thanks.” Sam replies, and they’re both worried about Bucky; Sam wonders how _much_ all that talking and, frankly, **_dominance_ ** must have taken out of him.

“Bucky? You want to say how you are? Can you tell me?” Steve’s saying softly. Bucky’s shifting his eyes, on Sam, then on Steve, and they’re deadly intense.

“I’m tired.” He says simply.

“Want a shower? Or should I go run a bath?” Steve asks, and Bucky doesn’t know what to say, falls silent. Steve’s moving a little closer. “Hey, gotta tell me what you want, c’mon.” He urges, and Sam notices the little clench of his jaw, and frowns, tenses a little.

“Don’t know. Don’t know.”

“Steve...” Sam warns before he stops himself.

“Buck, ‘s good for you.”

“Don’t care.” Bucky bites out and Steve’s voice is dropping before he can catch himself.

“I’ll get a bath, yeah? Nice and warm.” Steve says, and Bucky nods jerkily, and despite coming _five times_ Steve’s still getting off the bed, walking into the bathroom, and he barely shows signs of the exertion.

“You sure you’re alright?” Sam asks, moving to lay back against the bunches of pillows, turning his head toward Bucky.

“Yes.” Bucky says. Pauses. They can hear the water running in the bathroom. “It’s a lot.” He says, clamping his jaw shut after.

“Bet it is.” Sam agrees, “It’s hot as _hell_ , though.” Bucky’s lips don’t form a smile, but his eyes sparkle with the ancient idea of a smile.

“Yeah?” He whispers.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m going to be gettin’ off on that for, probably, the rest of my life.”

“You’ve got a lot of more opportunities to get jerking off material.” Steve says, ducking his head out of the bathroom.

“How are you still walking? How are you even talking to me?” Sam shoots back, and Steve’s laugh rings out of the bathroom.

“He’s insane.” Bucky mutters, moving to lay against the pillows also, curling a little toward Sam.

“I wish _I_ had his stamina.” Sam says, and shifts a little so he can reach out toward Bucky, “Can I touch you? That okay?” It takes Bucky a minute to decide, then he nods. Sam just strokes his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” Bucky says shortly. Sam hums lightly before Steve ducks his head out of the bathroom again,

“If the two of you aren’t going to join me, I guess I’ll just clean myself off alone.” He teases them, and Bucky gains back a bit of the glint in his eyes.

“Y’do that and you’ll end up jerkin’ yourself off again.” He says and Steve laughs, and Sam has to think again, how the _hell_ is the man still standing?

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @pavelanchekov, follow me for basically just bucky barnes


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